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The Vigil

Estimated reading time — 11 minutes

“What is sleep but the image of death?”
-Ovid, “Amorum”


Mayet sat in the big chair and looked out the window. The curtains were drawn, so there was nothing to see, but she looked anyway. She could hear them talking in the next room. They’d left the door open, so they must have wanted her to hear. “She doesn’t sleep,” Mayet’s mother was saying. “Not more than a few hours at a time, and even then only if I’m in the room with her.


“Last week I left for a minute to make tea and when she woke up and found me gone she started screaming. I’ve never heard anyone scream like that.”

The doctor cleared her throat. “How long has this been going on?”


“Has your family physician seen her?”

“Yes. He even prescribed something, but she won’t take it. That’s why he told us to call you. Can you help?”

“We won’t know until I talk to her. I’ll go introduce myself.”


“Should I come with you?”

“It’s better if you don’t. But you can listen.”

“If you’re sure…”

“This is what I do, Ms. Bautista. Let me work.”

Mayet heard footsteps on the carpet. She sensed, without turning around, the doctor’s presence just behind her, and her mother hovering in the doorway. She said nothing. The doctor sat on the floor next to her chair. “Hello Mayet,” she said.

Mayet raised a hand in a half-salutatory gesture.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’ve been talking to your mother and some of your friends; a lot of people are worried about you. They think I can help. If we talk a little we can see if they’re right.”

Mayet fidgeted with her fingers; they were feeling sluggish and tingly. It was something that happened whenever she was going on the third day with no sleep. She licked her lips before speaking: “Are you a psychiatrist?”

“No. There’s not really a job title for what I do. You could call me a kind of counselor. I work with teens who are refusing conventional treatment for their problems.”

“You’re here to make me take the pills.”

“I’m here to find out what’s bothering you, and hopefully find a way to fix it. I’m not here to make you do anything you don’t want to. So can we talk a little?”

Mayet shrugged.

“Why don’t you tell me why you’re afraid to sleep?”

“I’m not afraid to sleep. I’d love to sleep. It’s all I can think about.”

“That’s good.”

“I’m afraid to wake up.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Because of the man who watches me.”

“…what man?”

Mayet shook her head. The light coming through the curtains was hurting her eyes, though there wasn’t much of it. “He’s not a man, really. He doesn’t even look like a man. He looks like some kind of…dead animal. And he comes into my room and watches me sleep, unless someone else is here.”

“I see. And what makes you think this?”

Mayet turned to look at the doctor for the first time, to give her a disgusted look. “Because I wake up and find him here. And because I’m not the only one. My friends…he got them all.”

The doctor frowned. “Tell me about it?” she said.

Mayet shrugged and turned away again. “I’ve already told everyone. I guess I can tell you too; it won’t make any difference.” She sighed. “It started with Brianne.”

“Your mother mentioned her. She was your best friend.”

“Not really. Not for a while. But we still talked. She was the first person to tell me about it. It was a kind of ghost story, you know? She read it on the Internet. About a…thing, that comes into people’s homes.”

“And does what?”

“Nothing, really. Just watches you. People will wake up and see it there.”

“Then what?”

“The stories don’t say. Sometimes it hurts someone, but other times it just watches. But they say that’s actually the worst part. That when you wake up and find it there, and you know that it’s been watching you, you’re never the same.”

“Sounds scary. But people have always told stories like that.”

“That’s what I said. Brianne was freaked about it though; it’s almost all she would talk about for weeks until we told her to shut up about it already. That story really scared her, you know?”

“Who is ‘we’?”

“Me and Jan.”

“Jan. Your mother mentioned him, too.”

“I’ll bet she did. Anyway, Brianne was all worked up about this story for a while, and then she dropped it. Or we thought she did. Then she missed a few days of school, and when we saw her again she looked like shit. We thought she was sick, but she said no, that she just hadn’t been sleeping. Because she said she saw it.”

“It? You mean the creature from the stories?”

“Yeah. She said she woke up and found it sitting on her bed, just like people said. She said she screamed and it crawled away, and her parents woke up and the police came, and nothing was there.

“But then the next night, when she woke up…”

“It was there again.”

Mayet nodded.

“Did you believe Brianne?”

“No. It’s a stupid story, and the fact that she’d been talking about it for so long before it supposedly happened? We thought she just wanted attention.”

“Hmm. Your mother says she thinks Brianne was into drugs. Is that why you two weren’t such good friends anymore?”

Mayet bit her lip.

“I see. Did you tell anyone about this?”

“We didn’t have to. Brianne told everyone. She said she needed someone to help her, but she didn’t know who, or how. The entire school thought she’d lost her mind. She was missing class, fighting with her parents, staying up four, five days at a time. Not because she was scared to sleep, but because she was scared to wake up.”

“How did you feel about this?”

“Fucking embarrassed. How else was there to feel?”

“And how long did this go on?”

“A month? Maybe a little longer, I don’t really remember. By the end Brianne wasn’t talking to much of anyone. She’d given up.”

“Do you remember the last time you spoke with her?”

“Her parents asked me to talk to her. To help them make her come around. I didn’t want to, but they were so upset I couldn’t say no, so I went to her room. She was sitting by the window, staring at nothing. She was all skinny and pale, like a ragdoll. I sat next to her and I told her to get help. I begged her.”

“What did she say?”

“She told me…” Mayet stopped, flinched, then started again. “She said it was too late. She kept saying something like…’It’s because of his eyes. When I wake up and look into those eyes, I know things.’ And I asked her, ‘What things?’ And she said, ‘Terrible things.’ And then she just lost it. She was crying all over me. I hugged her and we cried for a long time.”

“You two must have been very close before all this.”

Mayet said nothing. The doctor paused for a respectful moment before going on.

“So what happened after that?”

“Things got a little better. Her parents thought I’d actually helped her. I was relieved.”

“And then?”


Mayet looked away. “She snuck into one of the locker rooms after school. They found her…hanging from a showerhead.”

The doctor squeezed Mayet’s hand, once.

“We thought that was the end of it, you know? But then Jan started.”

“Jan was your boyfriend?”

Mayet shook her head.

“Your mother says he was. She said he was another thing that came between you and Brianne. That you’d fought over him.”

“My mom says a lot of things.”

“All right. What happened with Jan?”

“He was pretty out of it after Brianne died. Everyone was, but he took it the worst. I spent a lot of time at his place; his parents are never around, and I didn’t want him to be alone.”

“Was he drinking?”

“Mom just never shuts up, does she?” Mayet sneered. “Yeah, he was drinking. So what? Who wouldn’t? That wasn’t the part that worried me.”

“…he started seeing it too, didn’t he?”

Mayet nodded. Then she began to cry. She smothered her face in the back of the chair, so that her voice was barely audible. “He came to me after the first morning. He was a wreck. He told me, ‘It’s all true. We should have believed her.’ He felt guilty, you know? Like we made it happen by not believing her.”

“Is that why he thought the creature came to him? As a kind of punishment?”

Mayet looked at her hands for a while. “He didn’t say so. But it makes sense.”

“Did you tell anyone that Jan was troubled?”

“A teacher. I wouldn’t, normally, but I was scared he’d do the same thing as Brianne.”

“Did he?”

“No. I don’t think so. He just disappeared.”


“He ran away. After a week he couldn’t take it anymore, and he sent me an email telling me he was going. He said he didn’t think he could get away from whatever it was, but he had to try. And he said…” Mayet stopped talking. In the corner, the old clock ticked a minute off. Mayet’s mother quietly sobbed in the doorway. Eventually, without prompting, she went on. “He told me he was scared for me. Scared…that it would come for me next.”

The doctor’s expression gave nothing away. She drummed her fingers against the carpet, in time with the clock. “And did it?”

Mayet shifted in her chair. “For a while, I would get emails from Jan. Never very long, just telling me he was all right, that he was keeping moving. Then one day they stopped. I haven’t gotten one in over a month now.”

“What do you think that means?”

“I don’t know. But I do think that it was following him. And that whatever was happening to him, it’s not anymore. Because the same time he stopped writing…” her voice cracked, “was the first time I saw it.”

She turned and looked the doctor fully in the face for the first time. Her eyes were red; from crying, and from never sleeping.

“It was three o’clock in the morning, and I don’t know what woke me up, but he was sitting right there, right next to where you are now.”

“Here? Not on the bed?”

“Not that time. Not yet. He was naked, and rocking back and forth. He looked like he was hurt or something. He’s all pale, like one of those blind fish that live in caves. And there’s something wrong about the way his arms and legs and neck move.”

“Did you see his face?”

“Not the first night. The first night he just crawled away. And I sat there in bed, hugging my sheets, and I cried and cried. I cried because I’d never believed it, and now I’d seen it, and I couldn’t stand what that meant.”

“Did you tell anybody?”

“No. I knew what they’d think. Because it was exactly what I’d thought, you know? At first I just hoped that it would go away.”


“But it didn’t.”

“No. I woke up the second night and he was standing right next to my bed. His back was still turned, but he was standing over me. And the night after that I finally saw him face to face. And Brianne was right: The eyes are the worst thing. Once you’ve seen those eyes…oh God, the things I saw…”

Mayet’s mother sobbed louder, and then she walked away, crying. Neither Mayet nor the doctor watched her go.

“After that I knew there was no getting away. Brianne tried to get help and Jan tried to run, and neither worked. So the only thing I could think to do was just not sleep.”

“Because he only comes when you sleep.”

“Yeah. So if I never sleep, I’ll never see him again.”

“But you can’t stay awake forever.”

“I know. It’s not a very good plan, but the way I figure, it’s just like dying: You know it’ll happen someday, but you just try to go as long as you can. Someday I’ll fall asleep again and there’ll be nobody around and then I’ll wake up and he’ll be there. Even if I went to the hospital or something, I think he’d still find me, and he’d find a moment when nobody else was there. You have to be alone sometime, right? I can’t stop it. But I can put it off for as long as I can. I can do that much, right?”

The doctor didn’t say anything.

“So that’s why I won’t take the pills. And I won’t go to sleep on my own. That would be giving up. And I’m not going to give up.”

“Because you owe it to Jan and Brianne not to give up.”

Mayet shrugged. The doctor was quiet for some time. Then she stood, brushed off her slacks, and took something out of her purse: a bottle of pills, and a small bottle of water.

“Mayet, you’ve been through a lot. More than anyone your age should have to deal with. You need more help than I can give you. Even your mother can’t help you through this all on her own. But we both want to help you. Do you believe that?”

At first it didn’t seem like Mayet was going to reply, but then she nodded.

“The first step, I think, is up to you. These pills are over-the-counter. Your mother has a prescription from your doctor for something stronger, if you need it. You don’t have to take them, but I want you to think about something: The sooner you fall asleep, and the sooner you wake up again, the sooner you’ll see that there’s nothing to be afraid of. That this man in the night doesn’t exist.”

“Then why do I see him?”

“There are a lot of reasons why we see things that aren’t there. Especially when we expect to. Fear can do that; so can grief, and guilt. But I think, deep down, you know that he’s not real, and now that we’ve had this talk a part of you has acknowledged that. I think that the next time you wake up, you’ll see that for yourself. And that’ll be the first step toward taking your life back.”

The doctor stepped away. She left the pills on the arm of the chair.

“It’s up to you. I think that, with your mother and your doctor’s help, you’ll make it through this no matter what. But I also think the sooner you start, the easier it’ll be for you. Think about the morning after, Mayet. Think about how good it’ll be. I want you to do that for me. And for you.”

Then she left. Mayet was alone. There was no more light coming through the curtain. Her room was growing dark. She turned on her side, looking at the little orange bottle and the water. The back of her throat hurt.

And she listened very, very carefully, for what she knew was there: the skittering sound of pale, hairless flesh sliding along the ground, and the gentle, almost imperceptible thump of misshapen limbs scrambling over each other. Was he here, even now? Had he been in the room, hidden, all this time, even while she was awake? Sometimes she thought he was. He could even be right behind her chair, standing over her, watching her, ready to glide away or melt through the wall the moment anyone else came in but always, always there.

Mayet felt cold. She curled up into a ball, trembling, clutching at her hair. The doctor was wrong. Deep down inside, she knew that the Rake was real. And that the next time she saw him, it would be worse than dying.

She laid out on her bed, watching the shadows crawl over the ceiling. She squeezed the pills in one hand, the water bottle in the other. She shook two into her mouth, grimacing as she swallowed; she’d always hated taking pills. Then she took two more. And two more. She kept taking them until there were no more, washing them down with the tasteless water from the plastic bottle. She wanted out, but she didn’t want to do it like Brianne; she just wanted to go to sleep. To go to sleep and never wake up seemed the only way of winning; the only way to cheat him, somehow.

She was already feeling drowsy. She thought of her mother and a pang of guilt went through her, but it was too late now. The shadows on the ceiling swallowed the room, and her vision blurred at the edges. For a moment she thought she saw something, a malformed silhouette stooped over her, with a cold, wet hand reaching for her face…

But then there was nothing, and she slept.


The doctor sat at the kitchen table, a cooling mug of tea in her hand. Mayet’s mother sat across from her, drinking hers. Her eyes had dried. “Thank you,” she said.

“I’m glad to help,” the doctor said. “I think she’ll take them. We can’t say for sure, of course, but I think she will. The important thing is that it’s her decision.”

“I suppose,” said Mayet’s mother. She turned her head at the sound of something moving in the hall, but nothing was there. She shivered without knowing why. “I really don’t feel right about it, though. I hate trying to just knock her out with pills. I never liked those things.”

“Well, there’s no need to feel guilty about these ones,” the doctor said, downing her tea in one gulp.

“Why is that?” Mayet’s mother said. There was that sound again, like something fumbling with a door, but there was still nothing there.

The doctor grinned. “Ms. Bautista, there’s nothing in those pills. They’re just a placebo.

“Mayet will wake up in the morning, right as rain.”

Credit To – Tam Lin

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86 thoughts on “The Vigil”

  1. WHAT!! What sort of a messed up story is this? What happened after that. I need to know what happened to her!! You want me to suffer from insomnia too? I hate you!

    9.5/10 btw.

  2. Oh noooo! Great story, semi-well-written but really interesting. Grabs you and pulls you in. The slow progression of the story could be fixed, and the emotion should be more concentrated. Throughout the story there should have been hints at her exhaustion, such as trembling, drowsy behavior, even instances where she almost passes out. The end, those two last sentences were PERFECT! An “I don’t have a cat” moment that really makes your stomach drop and your heart explode.

  3. This was very well-written. Personally, I find the dialogue in most of these pastas seem unnatural and kind of corny, but the conversation in this story felt real. Like how real people would talk. Interesting idea too. Makes me sad for the protagonist that she was tricked into seeing her worst nightmare :(

  4. Grody Shuddersome

    I’ve read several creepypastas now, but I think this one is the first one that prevented me from sleeping ><

  5. Though I’ve read The Rake close to forty times, it didn’t dawn on me that this was about the Rake until it literally said it. It’s a phenomenal story with many twists. 10/10 my good friend

  6. This is my freaking favorite pasta. I like how it was told through the dialogue, and I loved the irony in the end. 10/10 from me.

  7. My interpretation is that she let her guard down thinking she was going to die, but instead the Rake got her as she was in no danger of those pills.

    The part where the lady isn’t exactly a psychiatrist is because she instead used manipulation to trick the girl, while this was not malicious it’s certainly not something a health care professional of any type would do. Especially leaving an entire bottle of pills!


  8. I didn’t know about the Rake except by hearing the name somewhere, so I went to read the original story, and I must say this one is far better. Actually I am not sure it would be even better if it didn’t mention the Rake at all and just went with it’s own personal creature.
    The idea of something that hurts you by actually doing nothing else than watching you while you sleep and be there when you wake up is interesting and original, a sort of reversal of the Freddy Krueger style. I know that anyone being there and watching me each time I wake up would creep me quite a bit, even without being an ugly monster.
    I just wished the concept of the things people saw in the creature’s eyes was fleshed out a bit more.

  9. The best pasta I’ve read today so far. Very well written, I could just sense through the dialogue that Mayet was at her wits end. I feel bad for her for what she will wake to see. I’m glad the writer of this story went with a dialogue heavy story telling, it felt perfect for the way the story is portrayed. It’s stories like these that prove maybe we shouldn’t dismiss someone’s stories on something supernatural happening to them so quickly. 9/10 very well done.

  10. At first, I was thinking, what kind of doctor leaves a box full of pills with a girl he suspects to be borderline insane. Then came the twist! Loved this pasta.

  11. Wow. This was honestly amazing. A great view on The Rake (which in itself was a good pasta as well). I think the ending, when the mom hears something at the door, is the Rake coming after the mom, or maybe the doctor, for not believing in the girl’s story. I’d give it a 10/10. xx

  12. it seems like the rake is after the mother now, seeing how she thought her daughter was crazy for believing in it and from how it sounds at the end of the story

  13. If anybody reads this, search “the rake” on google images.
    I the first picture I saw, the one with the rake in the forest,
    was on the news! :[

  14. sheesh, it’s been about
    less than a week since I’ve been reading pastas and they just don’t get to me anymore .. like at all..
    writing this comment because this is the one that made me realize as I lay in bed with all the lights off late at night and idgaf if the rake is watching me . fucking pussy

  15. …wear one of those sleeping mask things? 030

    All joking aside this is a great story. Very creepy indeed :)

  16. I found this story very enticing. I love the voice that shines through with the characters, and the way you don’t know what’s going on, but it leads you on a trail that you want to know what happens at the end. I’m not going to lie, when I saw that it was another “Rake” story I sighed. I like to see more originality in the ‘creatures’ but it was still a good use of the creepy story. I enjoyed it non the less.

  17. Good pasta. I would probably be scared if I couldn’t sleep any way. When I sleep I usually can’t wake up easily.

  18. The tile “The Vigil” fits perfectly with the story. The word vigil denotes both someone observing or watching and a period of sleeplessness. Thought I’d point that out.

  19. Fantastic pasta lets hope the rake doesnt end up like slendy ive already read a good amount of rake pastas and its seems to be going that way. starting off as a creepy uban legend expanded by more accounds and stories, then the parodies come out, then a video game, then t-shirts, comical fan/devient art, then the myth/urban legend becomes a meme and is more funny than scary. you all know how people crap all over pastas that have slenderman now, so lets just be carful. then again rake is in a video game already…

  20. Tam Lin, whoever you are, I enjoy these constant Rake and Candle Cove pastas that keep getting posted this week. Keep it up.

  21. ThatCoolKidKyle

    The Rake freaks me out more than anything else on this fucking site. God, this story just makes it worst.

  22. Personally I believe the placebo made her actually fall asleep, because of the psychology and whatnot, the hand at the end is clearly the rake’s and most probably ripped her to shreds, and the movement in the hallway is obviously, the rake, haunting the mother now, as it seems to haunt those close to the previous victim, who do not believe in the rake, ~ my verdict

  23. Loved the pasta, although part of me was hoping that after Mayet died, the story would end with the counselor being tormented by the Rake, as a form of comeuppance.

  24. Do you guys know about the Rake’s sister? They call her the Ho. Awesome story, friend. You might even be able to make Jeff a scarier being!

  25. I loved this. I feel like most stories with an open ending cheat the readers on an actual ending, but I feel like this was done right. Plus, the ending plays very well into the idea of whether this is real or just in her head.

    1. Dude, I’m scarier. If you even say my name I take you. You’re like that guy from the youtube vid-hide yo kids, hide yo wife…

  26. … This was beautiful.

    I love when authors give the readers a chance to choose the ending.

    Either the rake takes her, or she wakes up with it still there. Both equally horrible, both wonderful potential endings.

    Bravo! I’m favoriting this one.

  27. Wow. I’m speechless. One of the best pastas I’ve read in a while. That ending sent chills down my spine! Overall, really great job. 10/10

  28. For all of you who didnt get the ending (it took me a minute, too) the doctor gave her fake pills to “help” her fall asleep, even though there was nothing in them, so when she took all the pills she wasnt dying, she was falling asleep, which means she will wake up agan.

  29. Not being as familiar with the Rake as with other urban legends, I did not pick up on what was going on until pretty far into the story. Pretty much when it was directly spelled out. But that did not detract from the story. I loved the way the counselor was written, because it was way closer to the truth than typically shown in writing. She begins to sound dismissive at the end (obviously it’s all in your mind due to grief), but that’s probably because most people would not be that interested to read a 30 minute session transcript. I think you created a scene and state of mind really well without delving too deep. Just things like how she buried her face in the discussion, tiny little mentions about not watching the mother walk away all taken together created a real atmosphere and an almost palpable sense of the fear Mayet is feeling.

    I wish the ending had left me feeling more creeped out. The twist was nice, but it did not really set me up to feel like she was in clear danger, because it has been that the Rake just visits her. Maybe that’s my lack of knowledge about the legend (though I did go and read the other Rake story on here), but maybe something more objective about the hand on her face to make it seem very dangerous, rather than just potentially annoying due to deception. That may also be my desire to diminish the ambiguity at the end, because I want to know what happens. Overall, it was a really strong story. :) 9/10

    1. Maybe not a good counselor but that’s how too many psychologists and doctors work, and of course the mom is paying the bill, so everyone is happy. well except for Meyet, but lets face it, it never ends well for the protagonist in a creepy pasta.

  30. I was pissed for the stupidity of the doctor for leaving a possible suicidal patient a bottle of pills but the nice twist in the end really made up for it great job

  31. UnforseenEvents

    @Lady Underdark She’s not going to wake up again, I feel as though the fumbling with the door was her trying to get away from the Rake, or the Rake locking the door. Either way, either she’s going to wake up about to die, or not wake up at all.

  32. Wow, I never thought the Rake was all that scary but you sure changed my mind. The pacing and build up was excellent. 10/10

  33. I wrote “Tales of the City” because I wanted to do something new that didn’t feel like everything else on this site, but once it was done I decided that the next thing I should write should play to an already established theme or story element. Because that’s one of the distinct advantages of having an online community like this; it creates a wealth of material that already has a great deal of resonance with your audience, and it seemed like if you want to write for that audience you should take advantage of that sooner rather than later.

    I thought it was odd that “The Rake” is the most read story on the site but that there are no other stories with the “Rake” tag, so it seemed like a reasonable place to start. I do not find “The Rake” a particularly scary story in itself, but one part always unnerved me a little bit:

    “I cannot sleep without fear of what I might next awake to experience. I cannot ever wake.”

    The notion of being not afraid to sleep but afraid to wake, and the idea of suicide as sleeping without waking and therefore a solution, had an awful sort of symmetry, so I essentially took that one line and wrote it into a larger story. The surprise ending comes from an unproduced short film I wrote a few years ago; I’m glad to finally get some use out of it.

    The sideways antagonism with the well-meaning but ultimately harmful mother figure I took from the original “Nightmare on Elm Street.” I actually submitted several stories all in a row dealing with the theme of parents and children, including another Rake story (that one about a father and son to match this mother/daughter story), but so far this is the only one to appear on the site. We will have to wait and see what, if anything, ever happens with the others.

    In any case, thanks for reading.

    1. I commend you for posting your story(and others lol)

      I love how you, the author of the story, received 26 votes and 4 of them were negative…EVEN though you were simply explaining your process which is actually a very common process on this site. Wow…Great job I enjoyed this story and your creation process.

  34. Awesome story!!! Just the right stuff to get me paranoid just before hitting the sack. I owe you one :P

  35. I thought the dialogue-focused nature of the pasta was a bold choice, but especially suited for creepypastas. It usually runs the risk of being bare and confusing: but here the bareness works its way into ambiguity, managing to deliver a lot more details than ‘normal’ prose in shortform. The subject of the pasta is also particularly suited for dialogue-heaviness: people’s reactions towards an inexorable unknown.

    Both the characterization and the monster were deft. The show-not-tell nature of dialogue really helped with Mayet’s characterization, implying her personality better than any straight-laced exposition. There was also a nice touch of betrayal, as we’re led to believe by the doctor’s dialogue that she actually takes Mayet seriously; in the end, she ends up making her suffer more, besides confirming the existence of the monster.

    The monster (The Rake?) drove the plot well. I loved how everyone reacted differently, yet realistically to the monster: not only Brianne’s suicide, Jan’s escape and Mayet’s gritted fatalism, but also the doctor’s grounded skepticism – forgiven maybe, because none of Mayet’s friends were exactly carved up by the monster. It manages to be an exploration of people’s reactions to the unknown.

    The dialogue-delivered descriptions were also just right in ambiguity. I slightly objected to the pasta’s use of straight description at the end, but it was at least a welcome clarification.

    That said, the dialogue still became featureless at times, leaning uncomfortably into exposition. I also expected much more verbal tension: Mayet arguing with the doctor, for example, or her mother’s version of her account; that would’ve created a lot more ambiguity. Those are relatively minor, however.

    Overall, a very deft, chilling pasta. 8.7/10

    PS. Nice title!

  36. Lady Underdark

    Not what I wanted to read before bed. But it was an exellent pasta to say the least. Although I feel awful for Mayet. Here she thinks she’s won and yet she’s going to wake up with the Rake in her face again… How terrible. She’s going to be pissed in the morning….

  37. Liked the philosophy midway but the ending was kind of a bit hanging – but still a delicious pasta. 9/10

  38. Wow, a most excellent story about the Rake! I had honest to God chills at the end. The story through dialogue was a nice touch. It felt like the telling of an urban legend with just a hint of reality layered in to make you wonder if Mayet has really seen the Rake or is “seeing” things. 10/10 for me.

  39. Well, what happened? Pretty good pasta, kinda creepy as im in my bed now, and do not want to go to sleep anymore…

    1. What happens next, you mean? Anybody’s guess, but I imagine she probably went insane. The trauma of the failed suicide attempt and another, climactic confrontation with the Rake will probably be too much for her.

      But that’s just my guess; other outcomes are possible. Thanks for reading.

      1. Yeah, i like your idea that she will think that the Rake kinda stopped from committing suicide.
        And then she went insane after.
        (who wouldn’t?)

      2. Yeah, i like your idea that she will think that the Rake kinda stopped from committing suicide.
        And then she went insane after.
        (who wouldn’t?)

      3. I imagine that the Rake will go away and never come back because it really was just a manifestation of fear.

        Sort of in the creepypasta spirit – You’re scared out of your pants for a day or so with the better creepypastas, but after you wake up the eerieness starts to fade.

        But hey, that’s just a theory.
        A CREEPYPASTA THEORY no that doesn’t work D:

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